


Out With Autumn's Leaves

by milkymosaic



Category: Rune Factory (Video Games), Rune Factory 1: A Fantasy Harvest Moon
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkymosaic/pseuds/milkymosaic
Summary: As tensions escalate between Norad and the Sechs Empire, Ivan begins to wonder if he shouldn’t return home to his duties now that he knows his brother is safe and happy. Though he may never see Raguna again, he is content having been able to watch over him briefly. One last farewell is in order. In particular, Ivan and Sharron have unfinished business in the Kasimir Ruins before he leaves for good.art by PeonydKingpin (Shuileaks on Tumblr, @Peonyd_Kingpin on Twitter)
Kudos: 4
Collections: Rune Factory Big Bang





	1. On the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Rune Factory 2020 Big Bang event (hosted by RFWeeks @rf_weeks on Twitter, RFWeeks on Tumblr). It was so much fun getting to work on this event. I hadn't intended to volunteer for two pieces, but the fact that they turned out so differently made it a great exercise.
> 
> This is something I have always been fascinated by from the first game. We don't get much of a look into Ivan's thoughts, especially regarding leaving Raguna behind and why he never told him they were brothers. So this is a bit of closure for myself, mainly.
> 
> There was originally an epilogue that got cut for time. I might add it back in eventually.

A warm wind rolled through Kardia as autumn began to make its first appearance of the year. The leaves had already turned their festive seasonal shades of red, orange, and brown with shocking timeliness, and new seeds appropriate for the shift in weather had already replaced the summer stock in the general store. Not a minute after that gentle herald of the harvest season had meandered through Kardia, however, a chill breeze whipped by in the opposite direction, making Ivan flinch and brace against its bite until it had passed. Fall was a time of fate, a time of change, and the weather could often be as fickle as nature itself. Though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, Ivan could sense the water Runeys beginning to gather, clustering around one another as though in celebration for a festival. It would rain soon. If he wanted to stay ahead of it, he couldn’t stay any longer.

Not that he should have been tarrying anyway. When he had first shown up in town, chasing the tail of a rumor without a shred of solid evidence, his only hope had been that the mysterious amnesiac who had rolled into Kardia with nothing but the shirt on his back would turn out to be the brother he’d lost more than a decade ago. After so long investigating, so much travel and searching, Ivan thought this could really be the moment it all paid off. Soon, he would be able to return home with his head held high and his brother in toe; he and their parents would know true peace for the first time in years. However, his greatest fear was even more pertinent in following this lead than it had been with any other. Was it a comfort to know that the stranger who’d suddenly appeared on the outskirts of Kardia had no memories, or was it a damnation of his selfish quest from Fate itself? It had ensured Ivan’s continued anonymity, certainly. It had afforded him the time and privacy he’d needed to process all of the associated emotions and to come to his own conclusions, to come to terms with what kind of person his brother had become in his absence, before having to make a decision on how to act. And yet, at the back of his mind, looming ready to fall and crush his spirit at any moment, was the thought:

_‘What if my brother is standing right in front of me, and I don’t recognize_ _him?’_

They had been barely more than children when they had last seen each other, before that nightmarish afternoon had torn them apart. It still didn’t feel real, especially not after so much time had passed. It hadn’t felt real then and time had only made the sensation stranger. They had been playing on the manor’s grounds as usual, Ivan terrorizing his brother with a grasshopper he had managed to catch delicately yet firmly between two fingers. Holding it out ahead of him and laughing, he had chased his sobbing brother around the yard until their nanny had caught him and pulled him aside, scolding him and forcing him to apologize. But the smaller boy had already run off to hide, and no amount of calling had coaxed him out. He had been there one moment and was gone the next; a scream had pierced the warm spring air, and suddenly people were running in all directions. In the end, the noble house’s youngest son could not be found. Everyone had expected a ransom note to arrive the next day, or perhaps the day after that, yet no demands were ever sent, and no leads could be found. Eventually, he was presumed dead. With no probable suspects and no leads in hand, the investigators had closed the case for good. Perhaps something had gone wrong in the kidnapping, they had suggested cooly, as though they weren’t telling a grieving family that their child had most likely been killed. Ivan had never given up, though, never been able to swallow their defeatist excuses. He couldn’t. If he had, it would have meant that his brother would have died - even indirectly - due to his teasing, and that would have been too much for him to bear.

Unable to even know where his brother might have been in the intervening years, Ivan had no way of guessing how much he might have changed. A lot can happen in the span of a decade. Would a younger Ivan even have been able to recognize himself after so much time had passed, let alone a brother whose face he could hardly recall had it not been for the family portrait hanging in their drawing room? The terrifying possibility of succeeding in his quest without realizing it and letting his chance at reuniting slip through his fingers was paralyzing at times.

Sure enough, when he had first met Raguna, he had found himself drowning in that sea of uncertainty. It certainly _could_ have been his brother. Raguna appeared to be around the right age, even if his amnesia meant he couldn’t say how old he was for certain; he had reasonable eye and hair colors to have been from their parentage and – thankfully – bore a kind, honest smile that Ivan would have been proud to say belonged to a brother of his. The man who had stood before him that early spring day when they’d first met had been exactly the sort of person Ivan had hoped his brother would have matured into. If there had been any way of knowing right then and there, perhaps an heirloom or a distinctive birthmark, he would have told Raguna everything on the spot and had his happy reunion just as he had always envisioned. They would have been on their way back to the capital within the week, and would maybe visit Kardia from time to time on vacation, bringing a box of sweets from a high-end bakery to Mist as thanks for looking after him in those first few days. Ivan could have laughed and smiled and spent the time in their carriage reminding Raguna of all the memories that he had lost, making up for all the time that had been stolen from them.

However, there was no immediate flash of certainty to tell him he’d finally found the right one; no chime, no spotlight from the heavens shot perfectly between the gentle, lazy clouds that had passed overhead in the timid spring sky. It would take time and a great deal of attention for Ivan to decide, and indeed he would have to make the decision himself consciously, rather than hope it could be made for him with objective evidence. Nothing about Raguna leapt out as a sign, and of course a major drawback of his amnesia was that he would not recognize Ivan in turn, nor any details about the missing brother than Ivan could have surreptitiously provided.

_‘By the way, were you born in this town, Raguna?’_

_‘To be honest, I don’t know. I have amnesia.’_

_‘My, that’s too bad.’_

Of course, Ivan had already known about the amnesia, but he had been hopeful that not _all_ of Raguna’s memories had been lost completely. After all, retrograde amnesia was rare to begin with, and to lose absolutely everything would bespeak rather severe head trauma. Perhaps it had been too much to wish for, though, that Raguna would have retained some sliver, some scattered fragments of memories for him to work with.

Instead, for the first few days, Ivan had continued drifting aimlessly in that sea of doubt, unable to form any coherent conclusion as to what he should do about it all, and for his first week on the road away from Kardia after their meeting, he felt as though he were drifting through a deep haze, going through the normal motions of his routine without really registering what was happening. He stopped in other towns, peddled his wares as usual, chatted and smiled as he always did, took note of how people were getting along around the countryside with the threat of invasion from the Sechs Empire drawing ever closer, yet when he returned once more to Kardia on the following Holiday, he could not have said with any great certainty just where he had been who with whom he had spoken. Even his ledger was in disarray. The entire time, all he could do was obsessively, reflexively over-analyze every tiny detail that sprang to mind. Was Raguna’s hair the _exact_ shade of brown his brother’s had been? How would he have been able to escape from his captors, or else why would they have simply dumped him in such a rural place? Was it possible he wasn’t from Norad at all, but instead had come over from the Sechs territory that so closely bordered Kardia?

Indeed, how had he ended up in _Kardia_ of all places? It was about as far from home for them as you could get without leaving the borders of Norad. If you went any further in this direction, you would, in fact, end up in the Sechs Empire. Of course, that had been one of the main theories from the beginning. Being so closely related to the royal family yet in no way in line for the throne, if the motive had been political in any capacity, it would have made more sense for their enemies to have been those from outside their kingdom’s borders. Neither of them blocked any line of succession, and their family’s political power was as nothing to that of, say, the king’s advisor. There had been no reason to suspect a fellow countryman.

Ivan shook his head vigorously, as if to stop himself from retreading that familiar train of thought again. Revisiting it now would do him no good. It would only serve to aggravate the wound in his heart. What mattered was that, as if his prayers were finally answered by the divine dragons, Raguna’s powers as an Earthmate had swiftly become apparent. That was the sort of sign Ivan had been begging for. Although there was no guarantee that his brother would also have become an Earthmate, they were too rare for this to be mere coincidence. He should have been overjoyed, but all it did was lead him to another quandary: what now? He had come all this way, worked tirelessly to dig up clues that even professional detectives had overlooked, in order to find his brother and bring him home. The only thing he wanted was to be a family again, and yet, would it really be the same if the man he returned with had none of his brother’s memories? Could he even be considered the same person if his past was no longer a part of him?

Besides that, the more Ivan got to know Raguna as just another member of Kardia’s modest population, he began to wonder what such a revelation would do to the poor, unsuspecting farmer. What would Raguna think if Ivan suddenly dropped all of this on him? A brother he didn’t know he had, a royal bloodline and all the accompanying duties, and the expectation that he would, unquestioningly, return to a family he had no knowledge of, leaving behind a life he had built nearly from scratch with his own hands, literally everything he had ever known, at least that he could recall. Even if he did believe him and agree to return, what then? And the day after? And the next? It was too much uncertainty at the time. Both of them were already dealing with sudden, heavy changes in their lives. Besides, it didn’t seem like Raguna was planning to leave Kardia any time soon. It could wait until they were both in a better place, Ivan had decided.

Yet the days had come and gone and the situation had only grown more complicated. The mysterious machines propagating monsters in the caves and ruins surrounding Kardia continued gating in perils from the Forest of Beginnings, new and more dangerous monstrosities kept appearing in their furthest depths, and the involvement of the Sechs Empire was becoming ever more apparent, which put Ivan in particular – as an Earthmate – in a difficult situation. Every day he spent on the road or in Kardia was a day he wasn’t in the capital to stand and fight at a moment’s notice if needed. The only reason he’d remained in the area for so long even with this threat looming was because the Sech’s border sat so close to Kardia. The town, in spite of being so otherwise inconsequential, was likely in even greater immediate threat of invasion than the capital. Yes, it was actually convenient for him to be there, responsible of him to linger even when his duties pricked at the back of his mind. Wasn’t it?

“Ivan!”

The call snapped him out of his reverie suddenly, as he noticed Raguna waving from down the lane. Reflexively, he smiled in reply as the other man approached at an excited jog.

“Raguna. Nice to see you. How’s the change in weather treating you? All of the planting to be done at the start of a new season must be tiring.”

Raguna shrugged.

“Maybe, but that only lasts a day or two. After that it’s pretty routine labor to care for the fields. Although, I may have overtaxed my fields a bit this past summer. The crops have been coming in more slowly than usual. I even lost a few.”

“That sounds rough. Hopefully fall treats you a bit better.”

“I can always hope!” Raguna’s smile was undaunted. How he could smile so brightly even as he spoke of inconvenience and loss?

“You’re looking well, at least. My apologies for not offering you any wares, but I’ve just packed everything up for the day, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, no worries! I didn’t come to buy anything today, actually.”

“Oh? I suppose you do already have most everything I normally offer…Well, what’s up, then? I have some time before I have to leave.” It was a lie, but Ivan didn’t relish having to say farewell just yet, even as dark clouds began to gather on the horizon beyond the top of the de Sainte Coquille manor.

“I came to invite you to the wedding!”

“Oh!” Ivan’s eyes went wide before crinkling back into a joyful grin. “Congratulations, Raguna! That’s so wonderful to hear. I see that big bed I sold you will finally come in handy, ha ha.”

“Thanks!” His smile was as pure as ever. Since the first day he’d stopped by the benches to introduce himself, Ivan had rarely seen him stop smiling. Running errands, tending the fields, caring for his monsters, or just chatting with the villagers; it didn’t matter the season or hour. The only times Ivan had seen him any other way was when someone was in danger. The day Cecilia had gone missing was the first he could recall of seeing Raguna anything but cheerful. It showed the kind of man Raguna had become, and Ivan could not have been more proud. Had it not been for the circumstances, Ivan would have happily charged into Clemens Cave alongside him.

“I’m so happy for you two. It seems you really have become a part of Kardia now.”

“Seems that way.”

Somewhere in the distance, a low rumble of thunder rolled across the land.

“But anyway, we’d love to have you at the ceremony. It’s in three weeks. Oh, and of course it’ll be at the church. I know it’s small, but they said everyone could come, even if there’s only standing room.”

The corner of Ivan’s mouth twitched for a moment, imperceptibly.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be in town at that time. In fact, I’ll be pretty far away.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. Well, will you drop by the house the next time you come to town? I’m sure we’d both love to have you over. You can see all of the furniture and utilities I’ve gotten from you over this past, what, year and a half? Wow, has it really only been a year and a half? So much has happened.”

Ivan felt his heart tighten in his chest. It was all he could do to keep his voice and expression steady.

“Actually, Raguna, I…might not be able to come back to Karda for some time.”

The familiar smile faded from his brother’s face.

“What do you mean?”

Ivan’s grip on his bag’s strap tightened as he adjusted it on his shoulder uncomfortably. The weight of more than just his wares began to make itself apparent.

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone; I’m not fond of farewells, but, you see…” Ivan hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, adjusting his grip as he searched for the right way to explain the situation without giving too much away. “I’m sure you’re already aware of the aggressions of the Sechs Empire towards Norad.”

The shift in Raguna’s expression confirmed that he was. How could he not be? He was the one encountering soldiers of the empire meddling in the saves around Kardia time and time again. By now, even an ostensibly simple farmer must have begun putting all of the pieces together, even without the benefit of a lush background knowledge of the current political climate or of the history between the two sides. The machines, and that woman with the eyepatch. Each time Raguna had managed to fend off the assaults of monster and mech alike, thankfully sparing Ivan the need to tip his hand in rescue. However, the threats had begun to mount beyond what a single man, even a capable Earthmate, could do. A full invasion was inevitable.

“The roads are going to become more and more unsafe. I make my living selling my wares as I travel, but…my life means more to me than that freedom of wandering. I’m sure you understand. I have to think of my safety and my obligations to my family back home first.”

Raguna’s hands clenched and opened, clenched and opened.

“Is it really going to get that bad?”

“If what people say is true, then yes. Sadly, I don’t think a war can be avoided at this point. Sechs has invested too much in their military research not to make a move soon. Even Norad’s capital is not as lively as it once was. The people are nervous, and rightly so.”

“I see.”

“But I’m sure Kardia will be safe. After all, they’ve got you, and look at how much you’ve done to keep the town safe already.”

A few leaves tumbled through the streets between them as the wind stirred restlessly.

“Ivan,” Raguna said, taking half a step forward, his eyes filled with both concern and resolve, “why don’t you stay here in Kardia for now?”

“Huh?” Ivan stared, taken off-guard.

“You said that I had become a part of Kardia, but you’re a part of it too. Other than Mist, you were the first one to welcome me to town. I know everyone else here would feel the same, and I know they would be happy to do whatever it took to accommodate you if you wanted to stay until it was safe to travel again. So if the roads really are that dangerous already, why not wait it out here? You even said the town would be safe with me here to protect it. You’re part of our community now as far as I’m concerned. I’d feel better if I could protect you too.”

For a moment, Ivan was silent. Nicholas and Cecilia ran by and into the town square as Raguna waved to them, not a hint of his concern reflected in his smile until he turned back to Ivan, awaiting his response. Ivan had barely registered them. He still had no reply.

“Well? How about it? We could get you a room at the inn. If you’re worried about money, you could-“

“Raguna.” His voice was even but firm. “I’m sorry, but… I can’t. Believe me, that sounds lovely. I’m sure we could make it work, and I wish that circumstances were such that I could, but… I have other reasons for leaving as well.”

Watching the hope fade from Raguna’s eyes rent his heart.

“In truth…I have responsibilities back home that I gained the blessings of our patriarch to be excused from, just for a time, to indulge a wild fancy of mine of travelling about the country. My family was not merchants, but I…had my own reasons for wanting to pursue this. But even if I believe in the importance of what I was doing, even if I do have permission to continue my journey, I’ve still been neglecting my duties. I know exactly what I’m ignoring, who I’ve turned my back on, and though I have pushed through on conviction alone up to this point, I must finally recognize the reality of it all now. In times such as these, I can’t justify prioritizing my selfish bemusement over the needs of my people…um, my _family_ any longer.”

When he looked up, expecting disappointment, Ivan was taken aback by the look of awe and respect on Raguna’s face.

“Ivan. I had no idea you were suffering all this time. You carry such a heavy burden, but you always smile at everyone so freely and with such gentle kindness. I always just assumed you were so carefree.”

Ivan shifted, blushing slightly at such an honest compliment.

“Well, I...I see no reason to add my misery to what others carry.”

“You shouldn’t have to bear it alone, though. Kardia has shown me just how much we can do when we all help each other. Even if you have to go now, surely you can come back. Even if we can’t help you now, once the war is over, send a letter. Anyone here will come help if they can. I just know it.”

For a long moment, Ivan was silent.

“I’m sorry, Raguna. I just can’t. I can’t drag anyone else into this. You don’t know what I have to go back to. I’m sorry...but this is goodbye. To you and to Kardia.”

“But why!?”

But Ivan’s back was already turned, as Ragun’a cries were swept up by the wind.


	2. Wash Away the Rain

The rain hit just as Ivan crossed the threshold into the bathhouse. The sudden cloudburst had soaked his hair, leaving his bangs drooping into his eyes like an unshorn Wooly with an unruly coat. Luckily, his jacket and pack were waterproof. It was necessary for a traveling merchant to take precautions against the weather, and Ivan had grown quite capable in his assumed role over the past couple of years, to the point where no one gave a second thought anymore as to whether or not he was a legitimate salesman. Still, the autumn weather had left him chilled, and the steam of the baths was a welcome, if temporary, reprieve.

“Hey Ivan!” Melody waved cheerfully from behind the desk. “Looks like you got in just in time.”

“Hi Melody.” Ivan returned the smile. Melody was a sweet girl, and a good friend of Sharron’s. Dressed like a witch but without any actual magical abilities aside from her alchemy-like formulation of bath additives, he could see how a girl like her could pop up in places like Clemens Cave and think it would be an appropriate place for a hot spring. After Mist, she was probably the quirkiest character in Kardia, for his money. “Is Sharron around?”

The young woman’s pigtails bobbed as she shook her head, her hat staying impressively balanced.

“She’s usually around Kasimir Ruins this time of day. I’m sure with the rain she’s ducked into the entrance for shelter. If you couldn’t find her, that’s probably why.”

“Okay, thank you.”

With that, Ivan turned to leave, but Melody called after him.

“Oh! Are you going back out right away? It’s pouring out!” Opening the door, a cacophony of splashes and the slap of heavy droplets against the cobblestone street outside poured into the small entranceway. Sure enough, it had not let up in the slightest.

Ivan shifted his feet restlessly.

“I really need to be going. I have some things I need to take care of before I hit the road, and I really would like to start out before...” Glancing at the door again, he sighed, realizing he had been rushing to try and beat the rain, only for it to find him, now uncertain and vulnerable.

“If you’re going to be travelling, you’ll need all the strength you can get. Why not stay and take a nice, hot bath to get your energy back before you leave? You’re only in town once a week, after all. Treat yourself to something nice! Maybe if you’re lucky the storm will blow through before you’re done.”

He knew the storm would not pass so quickly; he could read it in the movement of the Runeys, the way they swarmed and danced in place, as if they had not a care in the world and no place to be. Sometimes he envied them.

“Well..” he hesitated. “I suppose you’re right. It’ll be a long walk back to the capital.”

“Huh?”

“N-Nothing. I’ll stay for just a bit.” Shutting the front door, the immediate relief from the chaotic noise of the pounding rain washed over him, unearthing a tiredness he had not realized he carried.

Reaching into his pack, Ivan pulled out his purse.

“10gp, right?”

Melody shook her head once more, and Ivan briefly wondered if she had clipped her hat into her hair to get it to stay so reliably, in spite of its size.

“No charge for today.”

“What? Are you running a special?” Ivan asked, surprised she had turned down his payment after having just slung such a well-aimed sales pitch at him.

The girl smiled mischievously and winked.

“Consider it one last favor.”

Ivan looked at her strangely. She had always been a bit odd and liked to make mysterious comments as jokes, but this time there was no follow-up, self-satisfied giggling to break the tension from her ominous order.

“Um, thank you,” he said simply, unsure of what else could be said. Perhaps this was something she and Sharron bonded over; a shared hobby.

Hastily stepping over to the men’s bath, he propped his walking stick up in the corner and set his things in the cubbies provided. He was so out of it, turning Melody’s comment over in his head again and again, that it wasn’t until he was fully immersed that he noticed someone else was already in the bath.

“Oh, hello Ivan. Rare to see you here.” Wesley’s angelic smile was as calming as it was disarming. They had never spoken much, what with Ivan admittedly not being much of a man of faith, but the older man had always seemed kind, never asking why Ivan never came to his services despite always visiting on Holidays, and instead only ever waving cordially and possibly making small talk about the weather and Ivan’s recent travels.

“Mm. I’m about to walk a great distance, so Melody recommended I allow myself some rest before starting out.”

“Ah, well, nothing like a hot soak to refresh the mind, body, and soul.”

“Even the soul?” Ivan found it a bit odd that a pastor would tote a bath as something that could cleanse the soul, unrelated to the church as it was.

“Yes indeed. When one’s body is relaxed, one’s mind becomes clear, and it is easier for them to understand the Truth.”

“I see…” Whether or not there was some greater truth, Ivan had his doubts. Of course the dragon gods existed, but this omnipotent greater god of the church had always sounded like a fairy tale to him.

Still, churches had their uses. Their charity and community service were the pillars of any stable settlement in Norad, and if ever the people needed personal counsel, the church provided a sympathetic ear.

As this thought crossed his mind, Ivan glanced at Wesley.

“Father, is lying a sin?”

“Alas, my son, I am off-duty at the moment. But you are always welcome to visit the church for confession if you feel the need to get something off of your chest.”

Ivan sighed.

The trickle of water from the fountainhead pattered gently on the surface of the bath.

“What I can tell you, though, is that, while lying is certainly to be avoided whenever possible, it is the intent behind it that matters more than the action itself. If you lie for selfish gain, it is certainly sinful, but...if, say, a refugee came to your house pleading for you to hide them from soldiers hunting them down, and you hid them and lied to the soldiers that no such person had ever been there, well...you would be no lesser in His eyes for it.”

Ivan frowned.

“You speak of protecting the innocent, yet God does nothing to stop their violent advances into neighboring territories.” He didn’t even have to say the name. Everyone knew who ‘they’ were, especially in Kardia, so close were they to the border. “What good is His love and forgiveness if he won’t even protect his own people?” He hadn’t meant to start an argument. As both Melody and Wesley had said, a bath should be a place of rest. Still, with the war looming so broad over his thoughts, Ivan couldn’t help but feel slighted by someone claiming a benevolent yet omnipotent god could exist in such a time and place.

If his aggressiveness bothered Wesley at all, he didn’t show it.

“Many before you have asked just that, and have come to many different conclusions. For myself, I think of God like a father, perhaps even a great-grandfather: stronger in spirit than any other, but weak in body. After all, He gave us the gift of physical strength, of bodies with which to shape our world and our lives. He gave us free will, and in thanks we praise and remember him.

“We are His arms, His hands, His voice. We may find guidance where we seek it, but He has given us mastery over our own fates. Were he to intervene, he would be taking away that ability to choose. Free will is a double-edged sword, Ivan, for though we may cut our own paths, we must also dig our own graves.”

Ivan simply stared in response for a moment. Wesley wasn’t at all like the pastors Ivan remembered in the capital.

“Isn’t it blasphemous to suggest God is at all lacking? Or to suggest he’s abandoned his creations to the state of a world they can’t fully control? You say such grim things with such a casual smile.”

Wesley laughed amiably. Indeed, not at all like capital’s pastors.

“God has blessed me with both insight of the Truth and the wisdom to seek other truths for myself. Why should I not make full use of both?

‘Perhaps that is a bit roundabout. There are many truths in this world, my son. To blind ourselves to any of them or to refuse to acknowledge their possibilities in the name of obedience or reverence would fly in the face of God having ever given us eyes and minds of our own.

“But I digress, and the hour grows long.” Wesley stood and walked towards the benches to towel off. “As I said, you are welcome at the church any time, Ivan. Be it for confession, debate, or simple pleasantries. May your travels be safe.”

From the entrance, Ivan could hear the laughter and pattering feet of a child; Nicholas and Sabrina, by the sound of it. Wesley greeted them and thanked Melody before departing. Ivan sat in the bath a minute longer and contemplated Wesley’s words. He had felt so helpless recently, between the war and the situation with Raguna. How could he possibly believe that fate was in his own hands, that he could possibly do anything in such an impossible situation?

For now, he would do what he could, a pittance though it would be before all the great evils standing in his path.


	3. Voice of Stone

Ivan dashed across the fallen stone pillars and enormous lily pads on his way over the waters west of town, grateful to not have the time to ponder their fragile balance. On the other side, the entrance to the Kasimir Ruins stood tall and broad, unlike any other architecture found in Kardia, or in Norad at large for that matter. Just inside stood a woman unlike any other in all of Norad as well.

“Hello, Ivan.” Sharron smiled calmly as he shook himself off and wrung some of the rainwater out of the hem of his shirt. “What a sorry day to have to say goodbye.”

In her pristine white dress and elegant antique jewelry, she somehow looked perfectly at home in the Kasmir ruins. Ivan often wondered if it was a conscious choice or if her aesthetics simply matched her sensibilities.

“Hello Sharron,” Ivan replied, slightly more sullenly. “Do you have to put it like that? It makes it feel worse, if that’s possible.”

“My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The last thing Ivan wanted to do was argue on what might be the final occasion they had to speak. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we had a chance to meet.”

Her smile was unfaltering. Though it always felt genuine, it always felt more distant than Raguna’s similarly constant smile.

“Indeed. It’s a shame there’s business to attend to. I would have much liked having one last afternoon of conversation. Are you sure I can’t convince you to linger for one day longer?”

Ivan shook his head, his damp bangs sticking to his face.

“I’ve already said some of my goodbyes...I would hate to make things more awkward than I already have by sticking around. Besides, I really do need to return to the capital. War draws near. I’m sure you more than anyone has noticed The Sechs’ encroach, close as the ruins are to our border.”

Sharon nodded sagely.

“And you know my theories regarding their angle of approach.”

“You know, the offer to come work at the castle is still open. The king asks of you every time I return.”

“Flattered as I am, I could never leave my studies here. It’s my life’s work.”

Ivan smiled slightly.

“Yes, as you always remind me.”

“Surely the king is just as happy with all of the additions my translations have provided to the royal library as he would be with my presence in the war room, and I myself far happier besides.”

At such a candid admission, Ivan couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Sharron asked, but with a gleeful smile also obviously holding back a chuckle. “It’s the truth.”

“Of course, of course.” Ivan sighed deeply.

Suddenly, a deep rumbling rolled through the antechamber. Both of their heads snapped up, but in opposite directions.

“Thunder?” Ivan asked, looking towards the misty spray hitting just beyond the threshold.

“No. The guardian…?” The clack of Sharron’s heals against the naked stone floor ricocheted from wall to wall, echoing unabated all the way up to the ceilings that hung easily twenty feet above. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared around the corner, having closed the space in what felt like only a second.

Dashing after her, Ivan called out.

“The golem is gone, Sharron! Raguna defeated it.”

Rounding the corner, he saw the very edge of her dress disappear behind another turn in the hall. How was she moving so quickly just walking? His foot slipped as he clipped the edge of a poison patch, barely avoiding sliding into it. The poisonous mold shot up a few spores at the disturbance as he skittered back to his feet, continuing after the spectral trail of Sharron’s train.

From within the next room, a bright light flashing, blinding Ivan as he finally caught up. Once his vision cleared, he could see Sharron curiously inspecting a fire crystal, the remnants of a few dark slimes splattered across the floor.

“I know you can handle yourself, but maybe still don’t go rushing ahead?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “You know this place like the back of your hand. Have a little pity for me. I’ll be lost without you here.”

Turning, Sharron held the elemental stone out to him, her expression unreadable as a porcelain doll’s. He took the crystal, still slightly warm to the touch, and slipped it into his pocket.

“But, I thought you liked these?”

Sharron smiled in reply, blushing slightly.

“Raguna has given me far more than I could ever find a use for. I thought a merchant might find better use for it.”

Reflexively, Ivan winced slightly.

“You know as well as I do that I am no-”

“Ah, and yet. You have sold a great number of useful items to the people of Kardia. And have you not told me of the many people you have met along the roads and how excitedly they have bartered with you for the trinkets you craft? Even if it was a lie at first, if you live so deeply in that lie that it becomes indistinguishable from a reality...well, regardless of the philosophy, I think you have become a wonderful merchant.”

Ivan was stunned. He had never quite thought of it that way, but when he looked back on the past year, he really had all but become the travelling merchant he purported to be. Was it really that simple?

No. His heart sank, weighed down by the remembrance of his duties to the kingdom. He was an Earthmate, a noble, and the only one with whom Terrable would hold an audience. Enticing as the idea was, no amount of time spent in Kardia or in travel could change his circumstance.

“Kind of you to say.” Glancing past her, he noticed a neglected patch of tilled land. “Huh. Odd of Raguna to just let crops go like that.”

The small field looked as though it had once housed a number of cabbages. However, the leaves were all now rotten mush, completely unsalvageable and returning once more to the soil.

“Perhaps they were only needed for runes while he was exploring here?” Sharron suggested.

“He still would have picked them before moving onto the next cave.”

“True…” The pair exchanged a worried glance. “Perhaps it’s worse than we thought. This room is the furthest in the entire ruins from the guardian’s chambers.”

“Then we should probably move swiftly.”

Sharron nodded and the pair took off deeper into the ruins.

===

Sheathing his platinum sword as the last Gigantus fell, Ivan hastily cast Cure on the both of them, sealing the minor wounds they had received in the battle.

“Ho ho. Ever cautious, aren’t you?” Sharron chuckled teasingly, sheathing her perfectly elegant rapier, Grimoire Sword. Despite Leo having made it from his own design, the weapon somehow perfectly matched Sharron’s aesthetic and fighting style. Though she rarely engaged in melee combat, she had quickly taken a liking to it, and had become proficient with relative ease.

Ivan shrugged.

“Well, don’t you think we ought to be? With everything that’s been going on...I just don’t want us to be caught off-guard. No one’s coming to rescue us if we fall here.”

“Yes, yes,” Sharron rested her eyes for a moment, remembering all the lectures she had been given at the clinic whenever she would wander in seeking treatment for poisoning or seal. “I’ve heard the same from Lara and Edward a hundred times.”

Moving to the next doorway, Sharron smiled up at the immense doors standing agape for them.

“These doors were locked, you know, for the longest time. According to the cuneiform, they would open if you grew vegetables in the fields of this room. Some kind of mechanism that responds to the presence of runes.” She ran a hand over the writing on one of the stone doors, her fingers lingering over a particularly busy portion. Scrunching up her nose a bit, she explained, “I never really had much of a green thumb, and everything I tried planting here didn’t take. But then Raguna came through, read these even without my assistance, and, naturally for such a skilled farmer, had every inch bursting with turnips within the week. Truly, he must be an Earthmate with a deep connection to the energies of the world. Even I struggle with these more eloquent passages.”

“And yet now…” Ivan turned to the plots of soil behind them, fragrant with yet more rotting turnips, just like the last vegetable patches they had seen. Whatever had happened since the golem’s defeat was accelerating rapidly. It had hardly been two weeks since Sharron had first appraised him of the strange new developments in the ruins, and already what should have been healthy, if unattended, gardens had turned to compost.

Pulling his eyes from the spoiled foliage, Ivan glanced at the several sections of wall taken up by immense tablets carved with scenes depicting harvests and battles, text wrapped around their borders in celebration and remembrance. It was mostly retellings of myths and major historical events from what he could gather. Joyous farmers mid-harvest swallowed up in great fields of grains; row upon row of identical soldiers forming a line of spears they hoped the oncoming waves of enemies would crash upon; a number of domesticated monsters working side-by-side with humans, elves, and dwarves; and, of course, a grand mural dedicated to the dragon gods. Ivan smiled despite himself upon noting that Terrable seemed to be lavished with more space than the others, possibly due to Kardia’s deep connection with the earth and its abundance of caves, believed to be the entrances to Terrable’s subterranean domain. There were prayers for protection from dangers within the caves, for bountiful harvests, and even for the town to be blessed with the birth of an Earthmate. In those times, they were looked upon as connections between mankind and the dragon gods and were believed to have been blessed with an immutable connection to the source of runes and Runeys. Though he didn’t understand the science behind it - if there was any - Ivan had a pet theory that they were essentially correct, even if they did not have all the same words for it that modern researchers did.

After all, he - and apparently Raguna as well, from Sharron’s recounting - could somehow understand the meanings of the ancients’ writings without explicitly being able to read them word for word like Sharron could. Instead, running his eyes over the markings, he simply...parsed them. It was an odd sensation, but not wholly new to him. Even if he didn’t understand it, he knew well enough that this was yet another ability of an Earthmate. Some had it more than others, and it wasn’t as though they could give one-to-one translations worthy of archives or the royal library’s records, but they were occasionally called upon to assist where age or damage had muddled the messages of yore to the point where experts in the language could not parse the shapes. Even Sharron had, from time to time, taken charcoal rubbings of particularly troublesome sections from within the Kasimir Ruins and passed them along to Ivan for assistance. Finally getting to see many of the texts in their original forms was like meeting an old friend whom he’d only conversed with through letters. Familiar, yet foreign. Comfortable, yet thrilling.

His heart fluttered. The intrigue inherent in Sharron’s line of work had always made him a little envious.

“You’re sure there was nothing in the mini golem’s room?”

Sharron nodded without looking.

“It appears it was part of the ruins’ defense system, a guardian put in place to stop those who would raid such a sacred place. Sadly, the key fit directly into the door and cannot be retrieved now, not without damaging the structure. Still, it’s reassuring to know it can rest now.”

While her empathy for monsters was laudable, Ivan still found Sharron incomprehensible in times like this. Was it truly at rest? Was it dead? Had it ever really been alive? Having not been there to see it himself, he could not say.

“Then, we should head down. We’ll check the room the bigger golem appeared in. If there’s nothing there, we can check the rest of the rooms on our way back out.”

At his logical efficiency, Sharron could only smile sympathetically.

“Yes, though I am still fairly certain that the source of this life drain will be found in the deepest chamber of the ruins, just as the golem was. Whatever it is, whoever brought it here, they don’t want us finding it so easily.”

Sighing, Ivan shouldered his pack once more, grabbing his walking stick from where he’d dropped it when the battle had ensued.

“That’s assuming it’s not a natural occurrence.”

“Which would you prefer?”

“I…” Ivan hesitated on the threshold of the staircase that would lead them to the next floor of winding stone halls, Sharron’s vice echoing unsettlingly off the close, hard walls. “I’m not sure. Whichever can be dealt with more readily.”

===

“So, there it is. This confirms it.”

Drawing his sword, Ivan could feel his hand trembling slightly as the massive stone sentinel revved to life in front of them.

“Just as I theorized,” Sharron continued, “they aren’t replacing the gates manually, and this isn’t a new golem. Every blow Raguna landed is still there, though now only shallow scars in the stone.” As the golem lifted itself to stand, its pieces rotating into place as it turned to face the intruders, a number of large cracks and gashes could still be seen, but sure enough, it appeared to have healed since last they’d seen it. “The gates have been self-repairing this entire time, and somehow they managed to integrate that function into the golem. Poor thing. It’s soul belongs in the Forest of Beginnings. How could they bring themselves to inflict this false immortality on a living creature just because its body happens to resemble their hideous war machines? This is blasphemy! A crime against nature!”

Ivan doubted whether a golem counted as a living creature with free-will of its own. They were constructs, alive only in the most technical of senses, following programming to the letter. Of course, if not given direction, they would wander seemingly aimlessly, finding ways to busy themselves much like any other monster, but was that out of their own wishes or were they simply mirroring what they noticed other creatures doing? Sharron had a deeper knowledge on such topics, however, her intense sympathy for monsterkind had always led Ivan to take her opinions on them with a grain of salt. Still, in this case, he could at least agree that the technology implanted by Sechs was both distasteful and terrifying.

“How...How could they have progressed this technique so far already?” Even Ivan couldn’t tell if the slight shake in his voice was fear or rage. The Sechs’s transgressions had gone too far. From all around, pulled in through the cracks in the walls and ceiling, drawn up from between the tiles of the floor, runes and Runeys alike were being siphoned into the massive sentinel rising before them.

When Ivan had first sensed a disturbance in the flow of runes in the area, he had conferred with Sharron, hoping against sense that it was a natural phenomenon seen previously in the region’s history. When she had been unable to assuage his fears, they had begun independently looking into various possibilities. Taking a few days to quietly study the movements of the Runeys in the area, Ivan had indeed noticed a shift in their normal patterns. Earth Runeys in particular were having trouble making it out of the ground, even though they would normally dance above its surface on days of prosperous harvests with the rest of the elements. In Kardia’s library, unfortunately, he had found little of use. It seemed that such a behavior in earth Runeys had never been recorded before.

Sharron, however, had delved deeper into the Kasimir ruins than usual, hoping to find new texts with some insight into the matter. While she had been unable to get too much further on her own than normal, and was naturally unable to sense runes and Runeys with quite the same clarity as an Earthmate, her ability to use magic kept her observant to where such energies seemed to swell or wane. Combatting the monsters summoned by the gates and returning them to the Forest of Beginnings, she began to notice a pattern whereby the deeper into the structure she went, the more effort it took to cast a spell. Usually the effect was just the opposite, at least for earth magic, as the earth Runeys who lent a portion of their strength to casters clustered in greater numbers the further into the earth one travelled. Sure enough, when she checked the fields, she found their soil dry and malnourished, the once leafy greens of the turnip tops wilting sadly, not for want of water, but as though something was sucking the life out of them.

That is what had led them to agree upon a joint exploration to the innermost chamber of the ruins. Now, it appeared they had found precisely what they had most feared.

“The Sechs have some of the most brilliant researchers on the entire continent. I’m more surprised that they haven’t found a way to integrate it into the rest of these larger monsters. I wouldn’t put it past them.” The only time Ivan ever heard Sharron speak so harshly was when they discussed the Sechs Empire. Not that he felt anything but agreement with her fury and disgust for their meddling, but it always threw him for a loop to hear her normally breathy, calm tone turn so sharp.

With a single step, the towering guarding had closed a significant portion of the gap between them and leaned into a stabilizing stance as it raised both arms and aimed its fists at the pair.

“Looks like there’s no choice. We have to make sure it’s gone for good this time.”

“Don’t worry about holding back,” Sharron urged. “Sending this one back to the Forest of Beginnings will be a mercy.”

As the golem’s fists, each easily larger than either of them, rocketed forward, Ivan and Sharron both leapt to the side, the projectiles crashing into the floor behind them, scattering shattered tiles across one side of the room.

Ivan unsheathed his sword, but before he could land a blow on the nearest hand, the fists flew back to the golem and reattached, clicking into place at the wrists. Meanwhile, Sharron had already managed to close in on its legs and had begun alternating between prodding for a weak spot with the Grimoire Sword and leaping back a pace. Her focus was razor-sharp as she danced around its feet, distracting it long enough for Ivan to bring his sword to bear as well. Slashing at its legs, he found no immediate purchase in the surprisingly durable stonework, but the creature was now forced to choose how to split its attention between the two assailants.

Rather than choose, however, a grinding clank resounded from within as its torso began to whip around like a windmill, its outstretched arms able to cover all sides as it moved in on Ivan.

Sharron gasped as she narrowly dodged an arm that sliced through the air above her head. Ducking down, she didn’t have time to shout out a warning before the attack connected with Ivan’s side and sent him flying back, his sword knocked from his grip and sent clattering across the ground.

“Ivan!”

Seeing the golem begin to advance on him even as Ivan struggled to pull himself back to his feet, Sharron quickly cast Water Laser, striking the monolithic creature square in its back. Immediately, the creature’s head swiveled around, the tiny red pin pricks of its “eyes” settling on its new target before the rest of the body swung around and changed course to pursue the threat.

Sharron was well-enough prepared for it, however, and began running to the side at an angle, beginning to make her way around. Even as she dashed across, the creature turned with unusual speed for its size, nearly keeping pace with her swift movements. Its fist barely grazed her shoulder as she shot forward and quickly outpaced it, leaving the bulk of the attack’s momentum pushing through the mass of her pale hair as it trailed behind her. Making a pinpoint turn, Sharron suddenly made a break for the opposite end of the room, putting enough distance between herself and the golem to start up another spell, this time much larger.

In the midst of the chase, Ivan had managed to pull himself up and retrieve his sword. The blade, though still intact, had been damaged when it fell. It was usable, but not ideal. Regardless, he charged forward, gripping the hilt in both hands and stabbing it into a crack in the golem’s ankle that emanated an ominous, dark light. That certainly was not something Ivan had ever noticed with constructs before. Rare as they were, they weren’t entirely unknown to normal people, especially the educated such as himself. As the blade bit into the crumbling masonry, it gave at the dent it had received and snapped, half of its length breaking off wedged inside of the monster’s body.

Heedlessly the golem continued advancing on Sharron, its focus razor sharp now, even as Ivan threw a fireball at the spot he’d lost his sword to. As it closed in, her spell completed, a dark orb coalescing in front of her from her hands and colliding with the golem. In that moment, it struck him just where he had seen that dark light before that had been spilling out of the crack in the golem’s ankle. It was the same energy summoned by the Life Absorber spell. Clever, Ivan thought, to turn the beast’s own life-draining powers against it, or at least to see if it would have any effect. Though the golem showed no signs of noticing, the abrasions on Sharron’s shoulder closed up, a clear sign the spell was taking.

As the golem brought one giant stone fist down again, Sharron quickly tumbled between its legs, rolling deftly out of its line of sight before sprinting over to rejoin Ivan.

“Your sword,” she panted, smiling despite the danger they were still in. Ivan had to wonder how often she had had to deal with the various beasts of Kasimir Ruins in her research; judging by her skill, it must have been more than an average research would have been willing to put up with. Her unusual grace and calm that still remained, however, he had to chalk up to temperament.

Behind her, the silent sentinel clumsily turned, its legs shuddering a bit as it shifted its weight.

“It’s fine. We’re almost-“

Even as he said it, Ivan’s eyes went wide. The constant trickle of runes into the room which had barely been able to contest the ferocity of their attacks swelled into a flood as the sound of a clanging, grinding motor began to swell from the golem’s depths, groaning and shrieking in a cacophony befitting the horror Ivan felt drop a stone into his stomach. The cracks that had begun to form sealed, its posture straightening as all their work was rapidly healed away by whatever modifications the Sechs Empire had made.

“No!” Ivan cried out in exasperation, his expression pained.

Sharron stood silently, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

“Ivan...swords just won’t do this time, it seems. Their Retornen works far too slowly.”

He felt cold metal pressed gently into his palm and realized she was handing him the Grimoire Sword. Turning to face her, he couldn’t make heads or tails of her calm smile.

“What? But, magic damage was healed too.” Then it hit him. “You’re...that’s right. You can cast the original Retornen, can’t you.”

She nodded, taking a step back as he gripped the Grimoire Sword’s hilt firmly.

“But to cast it as an open effect, without a container like a weapon, will take a minute. Keep it busy for me, will you?”

“Of course.” Ivan chuckled, relieved. “Thank goodness. A simple solution for once.”

Sharron giggled as well.

“Speak for yourself! This spell will take everything I have left. I trust you’ll carry me out of here afterwards, if that’s what it takes.”

The sound of stone hitting stone broke the jovial mood as the golem began its advance anew.

“Get some distance,” Ivan called, though the clack Sharron’s heels were already fading away, replaced by the stomping of cinder blocks from before him. Dropping into a steadier stance, he held his wrist straight, the legendary rapier in his grip drawing a line straight to his target’s center of gravity. Sharron’s serenity must have been infectious, as he felt his own usual placid smile return to him naturally, even as he stared down their seemingly unstoppable foe. _‘Time to do or die, I suppose.’_

Racing forward, Ivan engaged the golem head-on, pricking at the joints of its legs with Sharron’s rapier, impressed by just how sharp it proved to be. Where his own sword had struggled to bite into the ancient rock, the Grimoire Sword managed to plunge through about an inch or so before stopping and needing to be retracted. Even in the heat of battle, Ivan couldn’t help but admire Leo’s handiwork. He was truly a master blacksmith, and worthy to have worked with as fine a material as Grimoire’s scales. Ivan was only sorry that such a beautiful creature had to be abused so in order to harvest them. Yet another reason the Sechs army’s experiments had to be stopped.

Far behind him, Sharron’s voice echoed eerily off the chamber’s walls as she chanted the incantations for her spell. Even as she focused on her casting, feeling more than seeing the massive magic circle forming at her feet and spreading outward by the second, her eyes were glued to the fight raging before her. The way Ivan moved was curious to her. She had never precisely had _formal_ training in swordwork, having mostly learned on her own with a cursory knowledge of the basics and a few books from the library on form, but she always strived to move with a fluidity that ensured she could remain elusive when going toe-to-toe with the monsters of Kasimir ruins, even the trickier types like packun boxes and fairies. By contrast, Ivan’s form was rigid, dangerously so, she thought. He would coil like a spring and then strike out in a single, forceful blow before recoiling and readying himself to strike again. There was no way he could be expected to maintain the same freedom of movement in combat she enjoyed. If she had to guess, she supposed his training had been quite classical and stringent, perhaps even military in spirit.

Symbols curled around the hem of her dress, spiraling out and into place in the pattern summoned by her droning recitation of a version of the Retornen magic she had discovered etched into a tablet left in the ruins long ago; a version of the spell that, she hoped, would function much like the Sechs’ gates, but in reverse. Her translations were still not perfect, but they had served her well enough.

Running behind the golem, Ivan found the spot where half of his sword was still stuck, the healed stone having reformed around it imperfectly, like a bullet wound that had been allowed to close around the projectile. With a swift stab and a twist of his wrist, Ivan plunged the rapier deep into the space left between platinum and rock and heard a satisfying _thunk_ as the creature stumbled, the upper half of its leg seeming to collapse onto the lower half as the knee gave out, leaving it dragging the disabled limb as it tried to swivel around. From here, he could see Sharron and the magic circle, easily four yards in diameter now and glowing dazzlingly. As the edge of the circle reached the golem’s foot, it began to shake violently, its head turning this way and that as it tried to pry itself away but was anchored to the symbols now moving to eclipse its entire shadow.

Ivan stepped back, grinning like a child at this display of prowess. Never before had he seen such a unique spell, and he may never have reason to see it again. He took it all in as the light began to coalesce on the golem, pulling it, its gears screeching and groaning madly, back towards the Forest of Beginnings. The din of its roars swelled to a peak before disappearing completely in an instant, leaving the two weary warriors panting, sweating, and collapsing to their knees in relief and thanks.

“Sharron, you did it. I can’t believe I got to see it firsthand.” Picking himself up, Ivan managed to walk over on still shaky legs and sit down beside her, taking a moment to catch his breath.

She smiled back at him, her flawless skin even paler than usual, a feat Ivan would have considered impossible.

Handing the Grimoire Sword back to her, Ivan got up once more, grabbing his bag and walking stick before returning to her side. Digging through the pack, he offered her his waterskin, which she gratefully took and sipped at delicately.

“I’m as relieved as you are,” she admitted, eyes still locked on the spot where the golem had once stood. “Knowing that it works, and knowing that there may yet be more spells here to find that had been previously lost from human knowledge...the possibilities give me renewed vigor for my research. It’s no Grimoire, but it is a significant finding.”

Ivan couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s very you. Always thinking of your research.”

“Well, it is what gives me the greatest satisfaction in life,” she mused wistfully. “And it clearly has its real-world applications.”

He had to grant her that one.

Offering her a hand, Ivan led the way back to the entrance of the ruins, not looking forward to starting off on the road to the capital so soon after such an intense engagement. He had no choice, though. The longer he stayed, the more likely he would be to inadvertently abandon his duty to protect Norad.

“I’m just so sorry we had to send it back,” Sharron said quietly with one last look back into the room. “Think of everything we could have learned about ancient technologies from it.”

“I thought only the mini golem was made to guard this place. Are you saying that one was, too?”

“Well, perhaps not. Sechs summoned it, I suppose. But their similarities made me wonder: was the mini golem made to imitate it? Had the civilization that made these ruins come into contact with the golem somehow in the past and made a replica in its image as some kind of tribute? Or was it just a coincidence?”

“I don’t think it can just be a coincidence. Is the golem a living creature?” Ivan wondered aloud.

Without answering immediately, Sharron crossed her arms.

“It depends on your definition. If it can go back to the Forest of Beginnings, then it must have a soul, right?” Her voice was almost pleading for it to be true.

“Is that how it works?” Ivan merely asked, honestly uncertain of the mechanics of the spell.

This time, Sharron did not answer.

Awkwardly, Ivan tried to think of something comforting to say, feeling guilty.

“Well, the mini golem was definitely just a machine. But the golem...during the battle, I think I saw what kind of magic the Sechs imbued it with.” Sharron looked up, intrigued. “It was Life Absorb. I noticed when you used the spell in the fight. Whatever alterations they had made, I’m sure the base spell was Life Absorb. Not only that, but I could see it drawing in runes and Runeys to heal. They’re the lifeblood of all nature. That’s why the crops here were dying.

“I think, if the golem could heal with their power, then it _must_ have been alive. Don’t you think?” He smiled kindly to her, wanting to believe his own words just as much as he hoped she would believe them.

“Plus, just like the other monsters, the golem didn’t come here of its own accord. It was brought here against its will. Yet it still fought to protect this place. To want to protect something, even if you don’t know why...that must be enough to say that something is alive.”

With a small smile, Sharron nodded.

“Yes, I think so too. It didn’t even know why it had been brought here, poor thing. I had never really thought about it much. I was too preoccupied with my research.”

As they left, Ivan spotted a monster box sitting still on the other side of the chamber and gestured to it.

“The packun box and monster box...I wasn’t sure at first if they were constructs or if they evolved mimicry as a way to lure in humans as prey, but then I saw Raguna raising them on his farm and realized that they must be living creatures. They would follow him around, could be taught to assist with farm work, and even seemed to be fond of him. I know now that they’re living creatures because of that. I wonder if the golem was the same. I wonder if there are other golems in the Forest of Beginnings.”

“I think there must be,” Sharron put forth with conviction. “I’d hate to think it didn’t have anyone waiting for it to return.”

Hit with a sudden thought, Ivan trailed behind a bit as Sharron took the lead towards the exit.

_‘I wonder...without the Sechs’ interference, if that golem had just lived here naturally and not been a problem, where would it have been happiest?’_

Sadly, there was no way of knowing.


End file.
